Chapter 45: The Weight of the Shard

The group trudged forward in silence, the glowing path beneath their feet winding endlessly into the darkness. The stillness was oppressive, as though the void around them had grown heavier since the fight. The shard's energy lingered in their bodies like a faint hum, pulsing just beneath their skin. Every step felt heavier than the last—not from physical exhaustion, but from the weight of what they had just experienced.

Ethan walked near the back, gripping his glowing pipe like it was a lifeline. His eyes were unfocused, darting to the edges of the path as if expecting something to leap out of the void. But it wasn't the shadows he feared. It was the shard—the memories, the flashes of worlds that weren't his but somehow felt like they were.

He broke the silence, his voice strained. "So, uh... does anyone else feel like their brain's been scrambled? Or is that just me?"

Naomi glanced over her shoulder, her expression tense but not unkind. "It's not just you," she said. Her bow hung loosely in her hand, but her knuckles were white from the grip. "I keep seeing things. Memories, I guess, but... not mine. Like they're bleeding into my head."

Lucas nodded, his shield resting against his side. His normally calm expression was etched with unease. "Same here. It's like the shard didn't just show us those worlds—it left pieces of them in us. I can't tell what's mine anymore."

"It's not just fragments," Karis said, her tone cold but steady. She walked at the front of the group, her knife in hand, her sharp eyes scanning the path ahead. "The shard gave us more than memories. It gave us perspective. A glimpse of what's out there. Of what's at stake."

Ethan let out a dry laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Perspective? Great. Because that's exactly what I needed—more reasons to feel completely out of my depth."

"It's not about what you need," Karis said sharply, stopping to face him. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes carried the weight of someone who had seen too much. "The Forge isn't here to coddle us. It's shaping us. Preparing us."

"Preparing us for what?" Ethan shot back, his frustration spilling over. "More nightmares? More memories that don't belong to us? I didn't ask for any of this!"

"No one did," Karis said, her voice unwavering. "But that doesn't change the fact that we're here. You can either rise to meet the challenge, or you can let it break you."

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He looked away, his grip tightening on his pipe. "Yeah, well... it's already doing a pretty good job of breaking me."

---

The path beneath their feet began to ripple faintly, the glowing light flickering in time with the shard's energy still pulsing within them. Naomi stopped, her sharp eyes narrowing as she scanned the void around them. "Do you feel that?" she asked, her voice low.

Lucas frowned, stepping closer to the group. "The path's... shifting."

"It's reacting to us," Karis said, her gaze fixed on the glowing surface. "To the shard's energy. Whatever we took from it, it's not just sitting dormant. It's changing us."

"Changing us how?" Naomi asked, her tone sharp. "Because I don't feel stronger—I feel... off."

"It's not strength," Karis said. "Not yet. It's understanding. The shard was a piece of the Forge's memory. It's trying to show us something."

Ethan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Great. More cryptic Forge nonsense. Why can't it just give us a manual or something?"

"Because it's not here to make things easy," Karis replied, already moving forward again. "It's here to test us."

Naomi shook her head, glancing at Lucas. "She's relentless."

"She's right," Lucas said quietly. "But that doesn't mean it gets any easier."

---

As they continued down the path, the ripple beneath their feet grew stronger, and with it, the flashes of memory became more vivid. The void around them twisted and shifted, forming hazy images of worlds they couldn't quite comprehend. Towers of glass reaching into the sky, oceans of fire that roared without consuming, and endless cities suspended in space—all flickered into existence before dissolving back into the darkness.

Ethan tried to focus on the path, but the images pulled at him, demanding his attention. One scene lingered longer than the others: a battlefield strewn with broken weapons and shattered armor, the bodies of countless warriors littering the ground. At the center of it all stood a towering figure cloaked in shadow, its fiery eyes locked onto him. The weight of its gaze made his chest tighten, and he stumbled, nearly losing his footing.

"Ethan?" Naomi's voice cut through the haze, grounding him. She had stopped a few paces ahead, her expression wary. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he lied, shaking his head to clear the vision. "Just... tripped."

"You need to stay focused," Karis said without looking back. "The shard's energy is trying to unnerve us. Don't let it."

Ethan muttered something under his breath but didn't argue. He gripped his pipe tighter and forced himself to keep moving.

---

The path eventually widened into a circular platform, its surface etched with faintly glowing runes. The air here was different—thicker, heavier, as if the void itself was pressing down on them. The hum they had felt since taking the shard grew louder, vibrating in their bones.

Karis stepped onto the platform first, her knife raised. The runes flared brighter beneath her feet, sending ripples of light across the surface. "This is another threshold," she said, her tone cautious. "The Forge's way of marking progress."

Naomi frowned, glancing at the runes. "Progress? It feels more like a warning."

"It's both," Lucas said, stepping onto the platform beside Karis. His shield was at the ready, his stance tense. "The Forge doesn't reward us without a catch."

Ethan hesitated at the edge of the platform, his earlier bravado gone. "So, what happens now? Another trial? More memories trying to mess with our heads?"

"Maybe," Karis said, turning to face him. "But whatever it is, we face it together."

The words were simple, but they carried a weight that silenced the group. Slowly, they stepped onto the platform, their weapons ready, their nerves frayed but intact. The runes beneath their feet pulsed rhythmically, and the hum grew louder, filling the air with an almost deafening intensity.

Then, without warning, the light from the runes exploded outward, consuming the void around them. For a brief moment, they were weightless, suspended in a sea of blinding light. And then they were falling, hurtling toward whatever awaited them next.